


The Reality

by Azrah39



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coda, Episode: s12e11 Regarding Dean, Memory Loss, Season/Series 12 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 11:35:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10740909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azrah39/pseuds/Azrah39
Summary: When Dean experiences the loss and subsequent return of his memories, he realizes that his previous notions might have been inaccurate. My Destiel spin on "Regarding Dean".





	The Reality

Dean felt frustrated and overwhelmed as Sam repeated to him who he was, and who his family was, the people who cared for him, the people who were going to find the witch who cast the hex and fix him. He swallowed the retelling of his life’s story, scrubbing a hand down his face as he struggled to absorb the information. Dean noticed that the frustration would slip away, seemingly without a trace, only to be replaced again, as the names of his loved ones and the details of his life grew fuzzier by the minute.

Sam left him alone in the bathroom of their motel room, and he got up to splash some cold water on his face, needing some revitalizing clarity. Dean gripped the edge of the aging porcelain sink, letting it support most of his weight. Somewhere in his mind, a quiet voice spoke of weakness, but it was gone in a flash, with nothing to tether it. Nonsensical. Dean steeled himself, eyes raised to the mirror, struggling to remember himself.

“My name is Dean Winchester. Sam Winchester is my brother. Mary Winchester is my mother. And Casti… Cas is my best friend.”

“My name is Dean W… Winchester. Sam Winchester is my brother…”

“Cas is my…”

\--+--

The bullet pierced the woman, the witch, and it began to happen. Memories, seeming to flood into him like a dam breaking, and Dean was overtaken with images and sounds and feelings, coming almost in reverse order. He could remember his time spent under the hex, being in the room with Rowena, in the bathroom with Sam, in the woods, at the bar, the bull, the bartender…

He remembered the moment he struggled to recall his family. His brother, his mother. Cas…

Dean fell to his knees, head cradled in both hands, eyes shut aggressively against the torrent of emotion and recollection. _Cas is my best friend._

He remembered being in the old church, Ishim brandishing an angel blade, threatening to rid Cas of his human weakness. He remembered Cas’ face, bloody and weakened, imploring him to do what was right. He recalled Cas stabbing Billie from behind, telling them that they were too important to Cas, that they could not die like that. Shuddering, he remembered that Castiel offered to go with him when he made the decision to sacrifice himself to stop the darkness, the way the angel embraced him. He could hear himself call out for the angel in a warehouse, despite Amara’s overwhelming presence, fearing for his friend while Lucifer controlled him. He recalled the way his heart rate spiked a bit when he found out that Cas had given up his army of warriors for him. He could recall Cas in April’s apartment, human and lifeless in front of him, how he placed his hands on his friend’s face, begging for him to wake up, to be okay. 

Dean remembered how Castiel looked as he stood over him in the clammy underground crypt where they came upon the angel tablet, the frigid, robotic ice in his blue eyes, fully prepared to kill him. Dean had gripped the angel’s arm, knowing that Cas wasn’t himself, needing him to understand. Needing him…

Dean pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes with a grimace as he recalled all the times throughout the years that the angel would appear just in time, come through for them when they needed him the most. All his memories, after Purgatory, in the damned place, before it, all the way back before the apocalypse, to the moment in the green room when Castiel chose free will over his own brethren, back further to the pivotal moment in the shed, as he stood his ground next to Bobby as the mysterious being in a trench coat strode forward, proclaiming himself to be the one who pulled Dean from hell.

“Dean!” 

Sam’s voice caused Dean to open his eyes with an unfocused flutter, holding out a hand blindly, knowing Sam would take it and help him to his feet. 

“Dean? Are you good? Do you…?” Sam raised his eyebrows in question, hope abundant in his eyes. Dean vaguely registered Rowena in the room behind him, dismissing it for now.

Unable to come up with any witty remarks, Dean nodded lamely, eyes finding an unimportant spot on the wall across from where they stood.

_Cas is my best friend._

Dean turned to his brother, a heartbreaking smile on his face, announcing his will to get the hell out of there.

Ignoring the buildup of tears in his eyes, Dean realized, distinctly, that it had always been a lie.


End file.
